


The Ending I Chose

by ironfamjam



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Irondad, Not exactly a character study but Stephen centric in a way, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, but stephen going through an entire moral dilemma fic no one asked for, flipping between present and alternate futures, or - Freeform, the peter getting furious at stephen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:08:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22488445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironfamjam/pseuds/ironfamjam
Summary: “Hey, have you ever thought about just waving your hands around and messing around with time?” Tony asks him out of the blue.They’re on the balcony, it’s a cool summer night, but they’re warmed by the coffees in their hands. Stephen looks up at the sky, cloudy and smoggy, not a star in sight, “How could I not?”Tony blows out a breath, “Let me guess, if you mess around with it, you’ll ruin everything?”“You watch too many movies.”A pause, and then, “But, yes.”Tony snorts.“Let’s say it didn’t fuck everything all up, would you?”With the fate of the universe in his hands, Stephen Strange looks at Tony and wishes he were brave enough to fight fate. And when he isn't, he doesn't blame Peter at all when he hates him for it.
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Stephen Strange, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark & Stephen Strange, Tony Stark & Stephen Strange
Comments: 13
Kudos: 137





	The Ending I Chose

**Author's Note:**

> i just really wanted to write peter exploding on stephen and then this happened. enjoy.

The dust that settles around them tastes like blood and looks like flakes of copper from a dying star. This planet’s been abandoned too long, it groans beneath their weight. If Stephen looks hard enough, he’s sure he can still see the remnants of an entire peoples’ tears as they died. 

There’s a pit in his stomach, perhaps it’s the Time Stone, alerting him to what is yet to be. He doesn’t know why it would bother nudging him to precognition when he’s about to sit cross-legged on this battered ground and see into every future and alternate reality he could. 

His legs fold atop one another and slowly, his hands curl around his knees. His gaze goes up- catches sight of all the idiots and fights the need to sigh. Quill is bickering with Stark, who looks just as aggrieved to be here while the spider child just stares around confused. There are worse ways to combat the biggest enemy of the universe Stephen knows- but God, couldn’t there have been better?

But then he thinks about if he was stuck with Steve Rogers instead and grimaces. 

Alright, team idiot it is. 

Stephen closes his eyes, the eye of Agamotto opens. His breath comes in, it comes out, and Stephen feels a worse pain than he has ever known. 

He feels the stitches in his heart tearing into pieces. 

-o0o-

“Hey doc, how’s it hangin’?”

Stephen sighs, swiveling around so that his cape flourishes around him, “Tony, didn’t I tell you I don’t have time for you today?”

Tony’s face falls in that dramatic woe-is-me type of way he’s so good at as he walks closer anyway, “Aw come on, aren’t you curious about why I’m here?”

Stephen makes a mental note to beef up the Sanctum’s security before remembering that Wong cares not one iota about what Stephen wants and sighs. 

“No.”

Tony shrugs, “Cool. Cool. Sure, that’s fair. But anyway, I think we should make a suit together. How could would that be?” Tony mashes his hands together, “Magic and tech, united. That’ll show Miss. Teen Genius.”

Stephen can’t help but snort, “Are you seriously competing with a sixteen year old girl?”

Tony’s brows furrow, “You can make glowy magic symbols with your hands but can’t believe that a sixteen year old girl is the smartest person on the planet today?”

Stephen rolls his eyes, “No. I have no doubt Shuri’s smarter than you. What I can’t believe is how petty you are.”

“I’m not petty! A little healthy competition never hurt anyone. In fact! I’m doing the world a favour. Imagine what she’ll come up with once she sees my magic suit.” 

“We’re not making a magic suit.” Stephen deadpans.

“Boo.” Tony pouts. With all the likeness of a teenage girl. 

Stephen is unaffected. “Boo me all you want, it’s not happening.”

Tony throws himself on an armchair, sprawling around as though he owns the place, “You’re just jealous because you remembered how cool it was when you used my suit during the space donut fight and you don’t want me to have fun.”

Stephen glares, “I’m not _jealous_.” 

Tony looks at him for a second before shooting up, pointing at him and laughing, “You’re _jealous!_ Wong! He’s jealous!”

“I’m not jea-” Stephen begins to hiss before cutting himself off, irate he’s even stooping down to Tony’s level, “You’re a _child_.” 

Tony shrugs, “I’d let you use it sometimes. Free of charge.” 

“ _No_.”

“Fine.” Tony gets up, turning on his heel and walking with determination, “I bet Wong’ll do it. He loves me.” 

Stephen’s jaw drops. 

Fifteen minutes later, they’re in Tony’s lab and Stephen has to smack Tony on the back of his head to knock off that shit eating grin.

-o0o-

Stephen feels his body vibrate, his head lurches from direction to direction. He feels like he’s being ripped apart. He’s floating in time. He sees thousands of endings and millions of beginnings. He sees alternates, he sees potentials, he sees things that changed something wild, things that changed just a glance. 

When he crashes to the ground, jolted to reality, he tastes the vomit rise to the top of his throat and he smells the dust underneath his fingers and suddenly, he feels Tony’s hands on his knees and his steady eyes and all Stephen can feel is sorry. 

Achingly, heart-breakingly, horrifically sorry. 

He looks in Tony’s eyes and tries to find redemption. He finds only concern. Fear. Worry. Stephen can’t take his eyes off him, he’s still trying to catch his breath, he feels untethered to this universe, anchored to this future he now knows is inevitable. 

“Hey. You’re back, you’re alright.” Tony’s voice is gentle.

Soon it will be gone. 

“Hi.” Stephen answers, still out of breath. 

Tony crouches lower in front of him, moving slightly when Peter asks, “Hey, what was that?” 

Stephen looks past Tony, at a young Peter with dirt in his hair and worry in his brow. He looks back at Tony, sees the tension in his shoulders, the pull of his lip. _I’m sorry_ , he wants to say. I’m sorry that he will die and you will live and then he’ll watch you die anyway. 

God, how much grief can a human heart hold? How does the entirety of the universe not consume him? How can he still feel this much when he’s been broken too many times to be whole enough to overflow with anything anymore? 

In Tony’s eyes, there is compassion. And yet Stephen knows those same eyes will be wet with tears that come and come and don’t stop for a very long time. That he will walk by the Parker apartment and sink straight to his knees. That he will hide every photograph, every memento, every object that reminds him of Peter and try to squash that pain deep down where it can never be unburied. That he will try to forget. And he will try to forget so fucking hard. And one day he’ll hear a song, just a lyric, just a word, and he will run into his basement and sob over photos he should have sobbed over a long time ago. 

And one day, it will be that same photo that inspires him to save the universe again. 

Peter’s hand is at Tony’s shoulder. Stephen feels that pain bloom into roses whose thorns cut right into him. 

How much love can a human heart hold? 

Stephen looks into Tony’s eyes and knows the answer must be infinite. 

-o0o-

“STRANGE! You’re dead!” Tony yells from down the hall.

Stephen takes another sip from his tea, turning the page of his book casually. He barely looks up when Tony walks in, enjoying how fired up he looks, “Tony.” He greets.

“Don’t you Tony me, you vengeful Harry Potter wannabee.” 

“Now that’s just rude.” 

He takes another sip of his tea. 

“I can’t believe you threw out my coffee. Do you know how EXPENSIVE it was??” 

Tony’s irate, brows scrunched together and energy all thrown in a tizzy. Stephen just makes a face, “Tony. It was your fifth cup and you told me you could see sound.”

“I’ll draw you a picture if you’re that jealous about it!” 

“Oh my God.”

“And you know what? Why are you even here? You’re never here.” Tony accuses, crossing his arms.

“Peter asked me to come.”

“Peter?” At his proteges name, Tony relaxes somewhat, looking around as though he could find Peter just hiding in the corner. 

“He said he had something to show me but that you’d get mad if he didn’t include you, so he invited me here.”

Tony clicks his tongue, “The little brat, inviting people to houses he doesn’t even own. The audacity.” But he doesn’t look mad at all. 

In fact, Stephen would bet a million dollars that he didn’t have that Tony was actually disgustingly pleased. 

Stephen gets it though. It’s domestic. Proof of a bond Tony never knew how to articulate most of the time. Obviously, Stephen relates. 

At that exact moment, Peter strolls through the door and Stephen can tell by the angle of his shoulders and the slightly meek expression that he should just put his tea away now before shit hit the fan. 

“So don’t get mad,” Peter starts and Stephen can feel Tony vibrating from across the room.

“Peter-” 

“It wasn’t my fault I swear! But there was this magic guy and he was doing that swirly thing and then there was this mom with her _baby_ and what was I _supposed_ to do?” Peter widens his already wide eyes and Stephen can’t help but roll his own.

The _drama_.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Tony says sarcastically, “call your superhero mentor?”

“You’re _retired!!_ ” 

“Not for you!” 

Peter looks taken aback for a second, softening for just a moment before shaking his head, “Mr. Stark! No! I can handle it.”

The two of them stare each other down before Tony sighs, looking away, “I know. I know you can kid. I just…you’re _my_ kid.” 

And Stephen watches as all the defensiveness melts right away and Peter hands over his backpack, “I know. And that’s why I came here. Because I needed you. And Dr. Strange.” 

Stephen stands up primly, “Peter, the energy I’m sensing right now is dark. And I mean darker than Tony’s coffee dark.”

Tony winces, “Alright that bag’s just become a toxic waste site, FRI, get the lab ready.”

“Roger that boss.” 

Peter glances up at him, “You think you can handle it Doctor. Strange?”

Stephen’s practically miffed that he asked, “I’m the Sorcerer Supreme. Of course I can handle this.” 

The next two hours they spend trying to erase the curse is oddly the most fun Stephen’s had in a long, long time. He thinks maybe it’s the way Peter looked at him like he was absolutely incredible when he claps his hands and magic gushes out. Or maybe it’s the way Tony grabbed him in a one-armed hug he doesn’t even think about when they finally get it right. 

-o0o-

Team Titan crowds around him and Stephen sucks in a staggering breath. “I went forward in time to view alternate futures. To see all the possible outcomes to the coming conflict.” 

Tony shirks back in surprise and Stephen hates that there’s a flicker of hope in his eyes. How he can see the gears turning, the need to _know_ , know so that Tony can do everything in his power to make sure the future that must happen happens. 

He’s always tried too hard. Stephen sees that now. He loves too much. Feels too much. _Is_ too much. And yet somehow, is never enough. 

Tony pours himself into the cosmos but it’s never enough, can’t ever be enough. The universe is a bucket with a hole and it takes and it takes until there is nothing left and leaves him feeling like he’s lacking when he isn’t, he’s _not_. 

And Stephen understands who Tony is now; the man who couldn’t die until he chose to. Until he walked into it, eyes open, heart clear, not trembling, but strong, back straight, face defiant. And he understands the man behind the armor, how soft he is, when you peel back all the metal. How bruised his heart is, how afraid it is, how much it aches and aches. 

Stephen looks at him and sees a kindred spirit. Someone like him. Someone better than him. Someone who could’ve been him. How easy it would’ve been, for them to have been each other. When they’ve both learned the same lessons. And loved the same kind of people. 

How lonely they used to be, until they learned they could be open and it didn’t have to hurt. 

Stephen’s guilt hardens into a bitterness. The world is cruel. The world is unfair. But Stephen’s seen the future and even worse, an alternate reality that would’ve been so much better. 

They could’ve been happy. 

Quill swallows hard, “How many did you see?”

Where was the ending that got him to the next chapter? Where was the moment that would fragment the future and get him to a chaotic Christmas party in the middle of the snow? What could he say that would convince the powers that be to let Tony live? 

A pause, a breath, a deep celestial quiet. “Fourteen million six hundred and five.”

Tony looks at him, and Stephen swears he knows. “How many did we win?”

And Stephen can’t look away. He can’t tear himself away from those eyes he knows he will fail in five years time. From those eyes he knows hide layer and layer of grief and wishes to be better. Those eyes of a man he now knows would have been someone so dear.

“One.” He says, and the entire planet silences. 

They could’ve been happy.

-o0o-

“Hey Dr. Strange, would you mind doing your magic thingy and helping me hang the decorations up?” Peter claps his hands together with a wide grin and Stephen looks at him, lip curled.

“The Ancient One didn’t teach me magic to help you put up Christmas decorations.”

“Yeah, but like, I’m tired. And it’d be so easy!!” Peter insists pulling on his arm jokingly.

“Come on doc! Lend the kid a hand!” Tony shouts from across the room, currently entangled in the lights.

“I still don’t get why I’m here.” Stephen sighs, while gathering the tinsel in his arms and levitating up to the ceiling to tape them around the walls.

“Because you’re secretly a slut for Christmas?” Tony asks while Peter screeches.

“Mr. Stark! You can’t say slut! You’re fifty!”

“Hey! Watch it young man! I’ll have you know I’m only forty-something.” 

Peter rolls his eyes, “That’s basically fifty.”

“Are you sure you belong in a nerd school Pete? I feel like your head’s broken.” Tony snarks, “Must be all the concussions you keep getting because you don’t listen to me.” 

“Hey! I listen!” Peter scuffs his foot against the floor, “Sometimes.” 

“The Cloak’s calling you a liar in case you wanted to know.” Stephen drawls and Peter’s jaw drops in offense.

“Rude! I try! It just doesn’t…always…work?”

Tony throws an ornament at his head, grinning when Peter catches it without looking, “That’s why you’re here where I can keep an eye on you. Now come one, help me decorate the tree. We only have two hours before the party starts.” 

“I still don’t understand why you had to invite _them_.” Stephen asks with a dramatic intonation. 

“Stephen,” Tony says, with extra drama, “they saved the universe with us. We can’t _not_ invite them to the yay we’re alive Christmas party. Plus,” Tony adds fondly, “I miss our little blue meanie. And I can’t invite her without inviting her sister. And I can’t invite her sister without inviting her boyfriend and their tree kid and then you might as well just invite the other three.” Tony waves a hand around like what he’s saying makes any sense and Peter just nods along enthusiastically.

“Plus! This year might be Mr. Rocket’s year.”

Tony pauses, “FRI, did I remember to host the bet again?”

“You did boss. You bet three hundred that Rocket would steal Mr. Barnes’ arm.”

Tony grins, “Wanna take that bet doc?”

Stephen looks at him and Tony almost thinks he’s going to pretend to be above it all when he says- with the most deadpan expression- “Five hundred dollars the racoon steals the arm but Barnes goes home with it.” 

Tony grins, “Oooh, spicy.” 

When Nebula steps off the ship, she looks at Tony with a cool expression before Tony whips open his arms yelling, “If it isn’t my favourite alien!” 

And almost as quickly as it appears, Nebula’s little smile is gone just as she closes in for a hug. 

“Hey dude, can you upload more music on my iPod thing? I got bored.” Quill calls, not even bothering with a greeting. 

Gamora smacks him on the back of his head, “Be polite.”

“Please?” 

Gamora sighs. 

“Yeah, yeah, FRI will get it all set up. And for _you_ ,” he turns to Gamora, “I’ve been fiddling with that alien tech you gave me, and I think I made what’s probably the coolest upgrade you’ve ever seen.”

And it strikes Stephen in that moment, that in Tony’s quest for eternal progress is actually a deep and genuine love. A desire to make things better for people. To improve their lives, even just a little. And when Gamora’s eyes light up and Tony’s lips curl up in a helplessly instinctive smile, Stephen can’t help but feel just a little disgustingly fond. 

“Ah! Magic doctor! How goes it?” Drax takes up his whole view and Stephen gets swept up in the chaos of an Avengers party and hates that he loves every second of it. 

-o0o-

The rest of the battle of Titan is too painful to talk about. 

Their fight is flawless. Their teamwork is impeccable. Their strength is ferocious and desperate and noble. And for a moment, Stephen thinks the universe was wrong. That they actually might win this. That they _could_. That maybe he had defied fate. 

Just because he wanted it so badly. 

Tony takes on the Titan all alone and Stephen knows that he is afraid but can’t see a single trace of it. His weaponry is phenomenal, it moves like water, transforming into daggers and shields and sonic blasts. Tony fights and he fights and Stephen finds himself watching with bated breath. They’re going to win. 

They’re going to win!

But then the armor pierces right through Tony’s abdomen and the blood gushes from the wound and he stumbles onto the ground. And Thanos caresses the top of Tony’s head and says in a voice more cruel and gentle than time, “I hope they remember you.” 

And Stephen doesn’t have the heart to tell him about the memorials they will erect in his honour. About the paintings there’ll be of the man inside the armour. Of the movies they will make. The speeches he will be cited in. The vigils people will hold all around the world thanking a man they’d never met who had never met any of them but loved them all enough to die. 

Somehow, Stephen doesn’t think that would bring Tony any comfort at all. 

And Tony is gasping on the ground, staring at him with fearful eyes but Stephen sees him looking around the empty wasteland and Stephen wonders if he wants desperately to see Peter one more time or if he’s terrified that he might. And Thanos raises the gauntlet, powering all four stones because this is Tony Stark and only the full might of the universe will do and it breaks Stephen’s heart- that he is just a puppet for an unfeeling universe that doesn’t care that Tony deserves to live when he gasps, “Stop.” 

And the world does. 

Stephen sucks in another breath, his entire body feels like it’s being crushed. He can’t look at Tony. 

Refuses to. 

“Spare his life. And I will give you the stone.”

Thanos tilts his head, “No tricks.”

Stephen shakes his head.

And though Tony is dying. Though he is in agony. He tries to lurch forward, “Don’t.” He begs and Stephen cannot look at him. 

The stone materializes in Stephen’s hand and he hears Tony letting out the most aggrieved of groans and sees him slump forward, disappointment pouring off of him in waves. Part of it is hatred. An ocean of self-loathing, of _why wasn’t he better_. 

_You were formidable_ , Stephen wants to say. 

But all he can do is hand over his most powerful weapon to his most dangerous enemy. 

His hand trembles in the air. 

_Am I doing the right thing?_

He doesn’t think he’ll ever know. 

Thanos arches his back with the power of time flowing through him and suddenly Quill is yelling and shooting and Thanos just looks at him like he’s only a fly before making a portal and vanishing. Quill tumbles through the empty space, looking this way and that, “Where is he?!”

Tony trembles, sutures up his wound. His expression is gaunt, haunted. He doesn’t understand. 

Quill’s expression falters, “Did we just lose?”

And Tony’s head falls back like he’s given up. Like there’s no more point. He’s given everything. But the universe is a bucket with a hole and it fell right out. And in the most broken voice, “Why would you do that?” 

The future flashes in Stephen’s mind and he says the only truth there is. “We’re in the endgame now.” 

-o0o-

Morgan Stark is born and she’s a delightful baby. 

Tony’s gotten all the best doctors and midwives for Pepper- nothing but perfection for the love of his life- but they still ask Stephen to check her over anyway. Just in case. 

“You never know, she could’ve been born with voodoo or something.” Tony says, trying to joke, but actually anxiously hovering while Stephen looks her over.

“You’re being annoying.” Stephen says remorselessly.

“Honey, stop bothering Stephen.” Pepper calls.

Tony half turns, makes a face, before offering a water bottle to his wife, “Can I get you anything? Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine.” Pepper says, with that half-exasperated smile on her face, “Just relax a little. Everything is fine.”

“I know, I just…it’s-” Tony stops, shaking his head, running his fingers through his hair.

“It feels like you’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop right?” Stephen says quietly.

Tony stops, looks at him with vulnerable eyes. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“We got the big bad Tony. It’s quiet outside.”

It isn’t of course. It’s New York City and the streets are bustling and cars are honking and people are chattering but it drowns out into the most beautiful white noise of normalcy. 

“And what if it stops being quiet? What if something happens.” Tony’s gaze drops to his daughter. 

“Then the Avengers will deal with it. And you’ll be a good father to your daughter and keep her safe. Like you kept Peter safe.” 

Tony takes in a staggering breath. “We did do that huh?”

Stephen allows himself a small smile, “We were an alright team.”

Tony snorts, “Yeah, just took out the biggest intergalactic baddie around, but yeah, no big deal.” 

Stephen places Morgan gently into Tony’s arms, cupping his hands around Tony’s own for just a moment, “If it ever got loud, you know who’d come running.”

Tony looks at him and Stephen sees the genuine gratitude for all of three seconds before that familiar shit-eating grin is back on his face. “Oh my God, Pep, he’s like Morgan’s very own fairy godmother.” 

Tony roars with laughter and Stephen swears he will never do another favour for him ever again. 

(he goes over two weeks later when Tony’s convinced Morgan has a cold when it was, in fact, nothing at all) 

-o0o-

On a dead planet, the friends Stephen could have had turn to dust. One by one, they crumple into stolen futures and lost loves. Stephen feels his time is coming. He’s died a thousand and one times and yet this one is the one that terrifies him. That shatters him. 

He should’ve been better. 

“Tony,” he calls and knows that this will never be enough, that he will never be enough, that Tony deserves more than the paltry words he will give him, but Stephen has to say something. Anything. He has to. “It was the only way.”

And Tony’s looking at him like that can’t possibly be true and Stephen’s almost happy, that he disappears from existence before he has to watch Tony lose the only son he’s ever known. 

-o0o-

There’s a reality where Tony and Stephen never meet. Or not really. There’s this kid, Peter Parker, he’s in the hospital because he shattered his knee and he needs surgery. The man who brings him in, Tony, he’s an absolutely annoying wreck and the woman with him, a pretty middle-aged woman with glasses is just as frantic. 

“Doctor, you have to fix him up alright?” Tony demands.

Stephen just gives him a look, “That _is_ my job.” 

Peter wakes up from the surgery A-ok and there are watery reunions all around. Tony comes up to him later, looking almost meek. “I’m sorry for yelling earlier. I was just-” he sniffs, “you know how it goes. But thank you.”

And the sincerity robs Stephen of his snide remark and he just nods, “Of course.” 

In another life, they meet when they pass each other on the sidewalk, Stephen on his way to work, Tony on his way out of a meeting because he just can’t stand it. They bump into each other and neither of them apologize, just look at each other, feeling like they might know one another but not being able to place it. And then Stephen brushes some dust off his arm and keeps on walking. 

Stephen wishes they’d never met. 

Maybe he’d still be alive. 

-o0o-

When Stephen reappears back on Titan, he wastes no time. Peter looks around, dizzy and confused, “Mr. Stark?” he calls out, before yelling his name again, “Mr. Stark!”

“He’s not here.” Stephen answers, looking down at him.

Peter just frowns, “He wouldn’t have just left me. Of course he’s here.” 

Something stabs Stephen right in his heart. “Peter, we died on Titan. It’s been five years for everyone else, and right now, they need our help.”

Peter’s eyes widen in horror, “Five years?” He can barely whisper.

And Stephen hurts for him, he does, but- “We don’t have time Peter. Everyone will die if we don’t help them fight Thanos’ army. Can you do it?”

Peter sucks in a breath. And then another. “Is Mr. Stark fighting?”

Stephen nods. “He needs us.”

And Peter’s lip trembles and he stands up on shaky legs. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay.” Stephen repeats. 

And then they’re on a battlefield. He knocks out some aliens, he makes a fucking dam, he protects his allies, people that will soon become his friends. Tony comes flying next to him, still a little angry at him, mostly overbearingly afraid. “Hey,” he calls, “you said one out of fourteen million we win, yeah?” 

Tony cocks his head, defensive, on edge, daring him to say no, “Tell me this is it.” 

Stephen’s expression doesn’t flinch, doesn’t change, doesn’t do a single thing because if he makes one wrong move, he will confess everything and the world will end.

He never thought he’d be the kind of man to put emotion over reason.  
(but he isn’t though, is he?) 

“If I tell you what happens, it won’t happen.”

Tony stares him down. “You better be right.”

But Stephen’s seen millions of futures and knows Tony’s heart better than he knows his own at this point and knows that there is no way he could ever be wrong. 

Tony Stark will save the world. In every alternate, in every world, in every time. Tony is always the hero. 

The filler of the battle rages on until Tony is knocked down to the ground, looking up helpless, until he catches Stephen’s eyes. 

The war disappears. 

It is just him and Tony. Him and all his knowledge of the world. Stephen could change it. He could stop Tony right now. He could change fate. He could change destiny. He could save not the world, but one man. 

Stephen looks into Tony’s eyes and sees the question that brims behind them. And he knows that Tony Stark will always be the hero. He can’t help himself. Can’t stop himself. A choice between him and the whole world? 

It’s no contest.

And Stephen can’t make the choice for him. 

But he wants to. He wants to desperately. And he’s sorry. He’s so achingly sorry. And he wishes things were different. And he wishes he were brave enough to taunt fate by changing it, but he can’t risk it. He can’t. And he won’t because he looks at Tony and sees the understanding dawning in his eyes. 

And so he lifts a shaky hand and his entire body betrays him, even raising one finger is almost too difficult. He can barely move. 

Tony’s expression opens, filled with a quiet acceptance. 

_I’m sorry_ , Stephen begs to say. 

_Do you understand now? Why everything had to play out the way it did?_

And Tony almost nods. And Stephen feels like he’s trying to be forgiven but he can’t ever accept that. Won’t accept that. Tony’s death is on _his_ hands. He could’ve tried harder to change the future. 

But he’s too afraid of losing to try. Too afraid of the world burning around them. Too afraid of Tony dying from heartbreak anyway. 

And when Tony knows what has to be done, when he understands the burden Stephen has placed on him, he doesn’t hesitate, not even for a _second_. He lurches from the ground, grabbing hold of the gauntlet and heaving with all of his might. 

Stephen watches, transfixed, and wishes they had more time. 

They could’ve been happy. 

Tony is tossed to the ground and Thanos just gloats, “I am inevitable.” 

He snaps his fingers only for nothing to happen. And like every single soul senses the changing tides, the battle stops, and everyone turns to watch as Tony rises onto his knees, eyes defiant, power overflowing in his veins, burning him from the inside out. 

Stephen sees Pepper running from where she is, already knowing what’s about to happen. He can see Peter, tears already pooling at the edges of his eyes as he shakes his head, no no no no. Rhodes is trapped in horror. 

But Tony doesn’t look at his family. He looks right at the threat that’s plagued him for so many years, and Stephen knows this is closure. That this is what coming full circle looks like. That this is what Tony had been working for, maybe for his entire life. 

“And I…am…Iron Man.” 

And Stephen almost wants to laugh, because of course he would. 

And when Tony Stark dies, he dies surrounded by the people who loved him most in the world. He dies knowing that he is a hero. That he is loved. That he is cherished. 

And maybe that’s worse. Seeing everything you will leave behind. 

And the Avengers drop to their knees around him, a tribute to his sacrifice, a thank you Tony never go to receive in life. And around him, Tony’s family cries. And despite the guilt that swallows him, Stephen’s cheeks remain dry until the wind blows and the stones glimmer and he swears he hears Tony’s voice in his ear for just a fraction of a moment, “It’s okay. Everything worked out exactly the way it was supposed to.” 

And on his knees, Stephen weeps. 

-o0o-

“Hey, have you ever thought about just waving your hands around and messing around with time?” Tony asks him out of the blue.

They’re on the balcony, it’s a cool summer night, but they’re warmed by the coffees in their hands. Stephen looks up at the sky, cloudy and smoggy, not a star in sight, “How could I not?”

Tony blows out a breath, “Let me guess, if you mess around with it, you’ll ruin everything?”

“You watch too many movies.”

A pause, and then, “But, yes.” 

Tony snorts. 

“Let’s say it didn’t fuck everything all up, would you?”

Stephen tilts his head to look at him, quiet for a moment, “I think if you’d asked me a year ago I’d have said yes.”

Tony raises a brow, “And now?”

Stephen blows on his coffee, “And now I’d tell you that everything happens for a reason. Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. And who am I to mess with that?” 

-o0o-

He finds Peter after the funeral. 

Pepper’s invited them all into the cottage for coffee and finger foods and tears and reminiscing. Stephen stands at the back of the crowd, unsure of why he’s there. Unsure of everything really. 

He sees Morgan duck her face behind her mother’s leg and wishes almost childishly, that he didn’t have the power to go back in time. And then choose not to use it. 

From the corner of his eye, he sees Peter pull away from a conversation with Colonel Rhodes and step outside. He sees Peter’s aunt, May, look after him with a heart-broken expression, hand lifting in the air just to fall again. “Give him time.” Rhodes says kindly, “We were supposed to win the war.” 

Stephen doesn’t know what compels him, but he follows Peter out, sees him on the grass, just looking out into the lake. 

“Don’t.” Peter says, voice low and coiled to fight.

The wind blows. 

“ _Don’t_.” Peter whispers again. 

Stephen stops. “Peter I-”

“No!” Peter snaps, whirling around, “You don’t get to follow me! You don’t get to try and give me some two-bit Hallmark card version of wisdom. You don’t get to do any of that!” Peter’s eyes flash and Stephen can see the angry tears and clenched fists and the slightest tremble of his lip.

“I didn’t want him to die.” Stephen finally says. 

Peter’s eyes narrow. “ _Don’t_.” He repeats, voice low and threatening and so, so enraged.

“You could’ve done more. We ALL could have done more!” Peter takes three giant steps, still far away, but close enough for Stephen to see his shoulders shake like every word is agony, “Fourteen million futures?? There are infinite futures! You should’ve seen more! You should’ve seen another way!” Peter’s adamant, “There’s always another way!” 

The wind rushes past Stephen’s body and he feels like if he let himself, he’d fall disintegrate all over again. Peter glares and glares and it almost hurts him, how painfully obvious it is that Peter’s trying so desperately to hate him when he can’t. 

And he remembers when Tony smiled and said, “He’s a good kid.” And Stephen’s heart hurts. It _hurts_. 

“Thanos had _four_ infinite stones and you didn’t even use yours! You didn’t even try! And you didn’t even try to help us fight him when you gave it up. And the worst part! The worst part is-is-” ashamed at his own crying, Peter’s cheeks flush, but he can’t stop, he _can’t_ , “The worst part is that you never even _told_ him.” His voice cracks and a flock of birds storm out of a tree.

“I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t risk our shot.” Why is his voice so level? Why is he so calm? How can he be so rational? When Peter’s setting himself alight to keep the freezing grief away. 

Peter looks at him like he can’t believe him, shaking his head, mouth open, eyes judging, “How can you say that?”

Quiet, and then, “How can you SAY THAT? Mr. Stark is a-” his fist clenches, his eyes close for just a moment, “ _was_ , he was a genius. He invented _time travel_ , he built robots and AIs and suits and invented a brand new _element_ and you’re telling me that he wouldn’t have been able to figure something else out this time around?? You’re telling me Tony fucking Stark couldn’t have invented something to harness the power of the stones if he had just had _time??_ ”

“Quill told me about what they did, with the power stone. They all shared their power together. We could’ve- we could’ve helped him. We all could have!” The tears gush over Peter’s cheeks and his lips are sticky with them and Stephen can see the tremors run up and down his spine and knows Peter is seconds away from breaking when he’s tried so hard this whole funeral to be strong, “I would’ve saved him.” He whispers, crying as he does, “I would’ve saved him and it’s YOUR FAULT!” 

Peter trembles and trembles and Stephen’s reminded suddenly, of that moment when he raised a single finger and Tony looked like the sun had set in his eyes. 

“Did you know that Tony had given up? After the snap.” 

Peter blinks at him, confusion clouding over the hurt. “You died in his arms and Tony rocked back and forth and waited to die with you. But then he didn’t.”

Peter’s breath staccatos, “I don’t want to-”

Stephen talks over him. “He came back to earth almost dead from dehydration and starvation and gave up on everything for a long, long time. And then Morgan was born and he decided he couldn’t risk her life. Even when the Avengers came knocking, all but begging him to help them with their time travel device to bring everyone back. But he had Morgan in his arms. And he said no.”

Peter’s eyes are wide. 

“And then, the strangest thing happened.” Stephen looks at Peter, not quite sure which emotions were swirling across his face, “He looked at a picture of you, and all the grief that he was trying to hide came back. All the years of missing you. All the years of wishing you were there with him. And so he walked into his basement, and cracked something that people spent their entire _lives_ on to no avail in a _night_.” Stephen makes sure Peter’s looking right at him, “Because of you.”

The tears pool at the edge of Peter’s eyes again, but this time, they’re loving tears heavy with grief, “Why are you telling me this?” He gasps and Stephen tilts his head.

“Because, Tony wanted you to live. He made his choice for you and everyone else he loved.”

“But he didn’t have to die.” Peter cries again.

Stephen doesn’t say anything. He closes his eyes and wonders if there truly was a universe, where everyone had lived. If somewhere, everyone was happy. 

“The flow of time connects us all Peter. Everything works out the way it’s supposed to.”

And Peter hears Tony’s goodbye words instead of Stephen’s own and he falls into Stephen’s arms and sobs and sobs and Stephen stands there, looking straight out into the horizon, trying to be strong. 

“I just really miss him.” Peter weeps.

“I know. But his legacy lives on in you. And he was so proud of you.” Slowly, his arms wrap around Peter’s back, “In every timeline I saw, he was always so proud.”

-o0o-

“I agree with you by the way.” Tony says, “About everything working out in the end. It takes a little suffering, but the good guys always win out.” 

“That’s pretty optimistic of you.” Stephen says drily.

Tony shrugs, hiding a smile, “Maybe I’ve been converted. Or maybe I’ve gotten soft.”

Tony looks out into the distance, something like faith in his eyes, “But I wanna believe that I have a purpose in this world. And that I’m meant to fulfill it.”

Stephen raises a brow, “Oh?”

Tony smirks, “Haven’t you heard? I’m Iron Man. And I’m going to save the world.”


End file.
